


and maybe this appeals (to someone not in heels)

by ivyshort



Series: Sun and Sky [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, i will live and die by gremlin friends marinette and adrien, no beta we die like women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyshort/pseuds/ivyshort
Summary: Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t soft, or sweet. She was ferocity and edges, like a summer thunderstorm.But storms weren’t all unkind, and neither was she.He was a harbor, gentle and kind, safe where she was dangerous.They had a comfortable, parallel familiarity.Luka appreciated it.A threeshot of the first three months of Luka and Chloe's relationship.(Techically a continuation of Dry White Wine, but makes sense as a standalone fic)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois/Luka Couffaine
Series: Sun and Sky [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783501
Comments: 23
Kudos: 120





	1. Month One

**Author's Note:**

> did someone say "write a 15,000 word continuation three shot to your luka/chloe meet cute fic" because i fuckin did
> 
> this is an AU where like half of Miracle Queen didn't happen solely because I was too lazy to think up new hero names for Alya and Nino. Also like everyone in the main gang is internet famous because have you SEEN these kids it's a natural consequence of them existing.
> 
> The other two chapters of this fic are written and I'm currently fixing up some edits, so have no fear about this being abandoned.

_[12:03pm] Chloe: hey running late_

_[12:03pm] Chloe: you'd think this hotel was run by blind infants by the look of the floral arrangements rn_

_[12:03pm] Chloe: be there soon_

_You: np_

Luka pocketed his phone, chuckling a little as he tried to imagine floral arrangements bad enough to warrant immediate drastic action. Flowers were flowers, right? He admitted lilies gave him headaches, but the specifics of boutique floral arrangements entirely escaped him. 

Oh well. Another mark against him ever running a high-end business. 

He leaned back against the wall of the fountain and strummed a few chords on his guitar. About halfway through the song, he spotted a black and yellow blur zipping through the air above him. 

Ah, that was one of the new superheros. Honeybee? He'd seen her on TV a few times. She kind of reminded him of Chloe. Maybe being a sassy, high-strung blonde girl with a secret heart of gold was a prerequisite. 

It had been surprisingly difficult to keep tabs on the situation at home while he'd been touring. Hawkmoth had been apprehended back when Jules was graduating from Lycee, just before he'd left (He'd really felt bad for Adrien, the guy seemed like a total softie and his dad being Paris's #1 most wanted definitely fucked with him). The first year after that had been quiet. 

Then Monarch had shown up. 

The constant destruction and rebuilding of the city were so old hat in Paris these days that the international papers barely bothered to report on her. But man, was she a doozy. Way more of a supervillain than Gabriel Agreste. Theatrical, cold, calculating - she seemed to be in it for nothing but the power and spite of it all. 

A slow, seeping stickiness started to seep through his clothes. 

Was this _molasses?_

_Save the guitar, save the guitar!_

Holding it above his head, Luka looked around for a safe spot, but the entire city seemed to have been very suddenly flooded in several inches of molasses, and it was rising. 

He had not missed this part of Paris.

He had a meeting with a prospective vocalist for the new band at 3. Would the attack be over by then? Maybe he could convince Chloe to tag along if he promised dinner afterwards. She was a good judge of character. It wasn't particularly romantic, but the last couple dates they'd been on had been him sitting next to her as she ranted about the technicalities of legislative compliance at the university library, so he had a feeling she'd forgive him. 

The molasses was up to his knees now, and he was really not getting anywhere fast. 

Yeah. This part of Paris absolutely _sucked_.

. 

Monarch was a real _bitch._

It wasn’t a real surprise to anyone that the successor to Hawkmoth, notorious stick-up-his-ass Gabriel Agreste, shitty parent of the decade, was also a colossal jackass, but it was exhausting. 

And Chloe was absolutely fed the fuck up with her bullshit today. 

This had been one of her rare days off and she had been on her way to what was probably going to be a very nice lunch date with her maybe-boyfriend and an akuma shows up that fills half of Paris with _molasses._ That seemed to be the extent of their abilities too. Molasses. Just fucking molasses. And she was absolutely drenched.

Usually, Monarch was better about planning than this. This akuma definitely existed just to fuck with her. 

She was going to be sticky for the entire rest of the day, magical Ladybug cure or not. She would just _feel_ sticky. 

Chloe was going to hunt down that bitch and rip her fucking eyes out. 

“Okay. What’s our status?” Ladybug said, swinging onto the rooftop five minutes late with Chat Noir right on her tail. 

Chloe growled, standing stick straight and trying to decide exactly how to even begin to attempt to get all this shit off of herself.

“It’s made of molasses, so I can’t sting it, it’s covered Paris in molasses, it has covered ME in molasses, and I am 90% sure my date thinks I ditched him, our status is _fucking annoyed,”_ she snapped. 

“Good, good, nothing major then,” Ladybug replied, watching the lump of molasses for a hint of its akumatized object, “Just the three of us today, everyone else is otherwise occupied.”

Chloe spared her a withering glare as she wrung out her ponytail, half tempted to wipe her hands all over Marinette’s pigtails and see how _she_ liked it. 

“Oh, hey, Luka’s down there,” Chat Noir commented, and Chloe froze. Shit. This was the same street as the cafe was, “Let me grab him real quick before we talk game plan, LB, he looks like he needs-”

“I’ve got him,” she interrupted, as cool as possible, trying to give nothing away as she strode toward the edge of the roof, “You two take care of Candyland over there.”

Chloe pitched herself off the edge before either of the other superheroes could argue with her, spreading her wings and swooping down to street level. She hadn’t really _discussed_ Luka with either Marinette or Adrien yet. She hadn’t even discussed Luka with Luka yet. 

Not for the first time, she envied the rest of her team. It was a lot simpler to navigate a relationship when both of you had to go fight the monster of the week and neither had to pretend their dishwasher was flooding their apartment or that their friend’s cat had stomach flu or something. 

She faintly heard Ladybug call for Lucky Charm behind her.

The rescue was a little more awkward than she’d been aiming for, since he was chest deep by the time she finally got to him and she managed to slam her nose into his chin while she hooked her arms around his chest to pull him up. 

God, she was so grateful that she had wings now. Enhanced strength or not, pulling Luka Couffaine out of chest deep molasses was definitely a two handed job. 

“You must either be an idiot or new around here, ” she panned, revelling a little more than absolutely necessary at Luka’s shocked face, “The cure will reset everything. You didn’t have to worry about your guitar.”

“This guitar could pay my rent for nine months, call it a survival instinct.”

She snorted, trying to focus on flying and not the all too calm, all too piercing pair of blue eyes staring her down or the smell of pine trees and bergamot aftershave that made her just a little weak at the knees. First akuma attack he’d experienced in three years and he didn’t even have the decency to swoon a little at the pretty superhero who saved his sorry ass? Maybe she should rethink this relationship. 

Luka smiled.

Eh. Maybe she’d keep him. 

“You’re new,” he said as she set him down on a nearby roof, “You’re not the same Queen Bee as before.”

Chloe folded her arms, keeping herself hovering around Luka’s eye level, “Oh, you definitely haven't been around Paris in a while. Chloe Bourgeois hasn’t been Queen Bee since she was 15. Superheroes that don’t keep their secret identity a secret don’t last long in our line of business.”

It wasn’t really a _lie_. She’d only gotten Pollen back for good when Monarch had surfaced and Marinette had decided the best place to hide the new Bee hero was in plain sight. Dumb? Almost certainly. But Chloe wasn’t complaining. 

Luka nodded, tapping a finger on his jawline, “You look a lot like her.”

“Don’t think too hard on that,” she smirked, “Magical transformation. I can look like whoever I want.”

He smiled, nodding, eyes boring right through her mask and straight into her soul, “Makes sense, I guess.” 

She should probably change her hair or something before she met up with him afterward. Those dumb pigtails had been the thing to clue her into Ladybug’s secret identity. She was not about to make the same mistake. 

“Luka,” he offered his hand, “Thanks for the save.”

“Honeybee,” she responded, barely even registering the molasses squelching between their hands. 

“See you around then, newbie,” Chloe said, giving him a two fingered salute and a smirk as she rose back into the air. Good, then. Safe and none the wiser. After all, who the hell would ever give Chloe Bourgeois another Miraculous? 

She got back to the fight just as Ladybug snapped the whisk the monster had been clutching in her hand and relished the warm magic that swept over her. Dry. Clean. They ducked into a nearby alley to detransform. 

She was going to take the longest fucking bath in the world tonight. 

“So. Luka.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes and flipped her ponytail, “What about him? I got him to safety, sorry for missing him the first time around. Dumbass has been out of Paris so long he forgot all the akuma safety protocols.” 

Marinette snickered, “Not what I was talking about, and you know it, Chloe.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she bit back, pulling out her scrunchies and starting to dutch braid one side of her head as they walked back down the sidewalk.

“C’mon, Chlo, when were you gonna tell us?” Adrien prodded her in the side, “You’re going on a da~ate.” 

“If I could get away with it, I’d never tell either of you absolutely anything. Ever,” Chloe grunted, shoving Adrien back with her elbow, “You two are the fucking _worst._ ” 

“I totally thought Alya was kidding when she said you two were practically making out at our engagement party, I can’t believe it, this is _hilarious,”_ Marinette said, twisting around so she was facing Chloe and walking backwards, "That's why you were so mad about the Akuma! I thought you'd be thrilled to escape that party but I hadn't seen you that grumpy in weeks!" 

God, what ever happened to stammering, blushy Marinette from Lycee who never said anything bad about anybody? Chloe missed her. Cocky-Ladybug Marinette was such a pain in the ass, and Adrien was even worse. 

“What’s funny, Dupain-Cheng?”

“Opposites attract, I guess,” Marinette shrugged, “Never pegged you to be into the messy rocker type vibe. Does he know you only buy designer flip flops? He’s never bought clothing outside a thrift store. I bet his entire wardrobe cost less than the shirt you're wearing right now.” 

Chloe finished the first braid and moved onto the other side of her head, “I’m full of surprises. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m already _late_ and-” 

“You’re meeting him _right now?_ We’re totally coming. We can tell him all about that time you got super wasted and cried about ice cream in the hotel lobby for twenty minutes," Adrien grinned. 

"You wouldn't dare," Chloe hissed, resisting the urge to bodyslam him into oncoming traffic. 

"Well, we, as your friends, need to make sure he's going to treat you right. You're a very high profile young lady, you know. Wouldn't do to have a scandal if he breaks your heart, smooth musician-type he is. And as his friends, we need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives up your sleeve. He's very delicate, you know. Doesn’t go out on a lot of dates. We don't want to see his heart broken by some shallow blonde looking for some quick fame," Adrien drawled, grinning like a cat. 

"You guys are reading way too much into this. We’ve had dinner a couple times. It’s not a big deal.” 

Marinette narrowed her eyes, “A couple times? How many times have you hung out since the party?” 

Almost every day. 

“A few,” she lied, finishing the second braid and pulling out her phone to text him that she was a block away. Ugh. It was already 1:30, and he was talking to a new vocalist at 3. Fucking akumas. 

“Chloooooe, how many times?” 

“I haven’t been counting,” she muttered, shooting off a quick text and shoving her phone back into her purse before either of the two dumbasses could grab it and see exactly how much she’d been texting him in the last two weeks. 

“She’s lost count. I bet double digits,” Adrien said, giving Marinette a side eye, “Luka _has_ been really busy for an unemployed musician since getting back to Paris. I’ve tried to get him to come to like three different hangouts with the rest of the guys.” 

“I’m never talking to either of you again.” 

“Chloe, you like him, right?” Marinette asked, a little more serious this time.

She could feel the blush creeping up her neck, “I happen to like him quite a bit, thank you very much for the vote of confidence.” 

Marinette smiled, “Good. He must really like you too. Luka commits to people, y’know? Isn’t really the type to date around. Falls pretty fast and hard. I think he watches too many romance movies.” 

Chloe felt her heart in her throat. Her mouth was dry. She’d half convinced herself she was one of several, just to keep herself from caring too much if Luka had stopped responding to her texts. “We haven’t talked about a relationship yet.” 

“But you’ve thought about it?” Adrien prodded, more gently. 

They turned the corner and Chloe smiled as she caught sight of Luka standing in front of the cafe, one hand in the pocket of his sweatshirt, leaning slightly on his guitar case, checking his phone. 

“Yeah,” she replied, feeling the blush spread across her cheek, clutching the strap of her purse, “I’ve thought about it.” 

Luka looked up from his phone and waved at her, smiling, and Chloe felt her heart jump into her throat. 

Marinette and Adrien shared the smuggest, most insufferable look Chloe had ever seen on either of them and waved back at Luka. Adrien even had the gall to grab her open hand and wave for her, like she was some time of infant. 

“If either of you say a fucking word I will flood Twitter with pictures from when you two locked braces in the hall closet in Lycee,” Chloe hissed. 

“Luka! Good to see you!” Marinette chirped instead, bounding ahead and giving him a quick hug, “We were venue shopping down here and ran into Chloe after Laybug fixed everything! Small world. Did you see that akuma? What on earth was that stuff in the streets? Chocolate syrup?” 

“Molasses,” Luka grimaced, shifting slightly, as if he could still feel it, “It got me pretty good, one of the new heroes had to save my ass.” 

“You got caught by that akuma? You must be-”  
  
“Adrien Agreste if you finish that sentence in a pun I swear to God I will feed you your own shoes,” Chloe snapped, burying her face in her hands. 

“-slow as molasses,” he finished, waggling his eyebrows and looking all too pleased with himself.

Marinette intercepted herself smoothly between Chloe and her smirking fiancé, lest the blonde make good on her threat, “Well, unfortunately that akuma put us behind schedule and we have three more places to look this afternoon, so we’ll have to see you two later!”

She pulled Adrien away gently, winking at Chloe, “Have fun! Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” 

Luka watched them walk away for a few seconds, "Crazy coincidence, huh?" 

Chloe turned back to Luka, checking the time on her phone like she didn't know the inevitable, “You’ve got that meeting in an hour, don’t you? And it’s all the way across town, so we don’t really have time for lunch anymore.”

“No big, that akuma would’ve interrupted anyway,” he shrugged, offering his arm, “If you don’t mind eating on the go, I was hoping you’d help me scope this guy out.”

She smiled, trying not to left the relief show too openly, and she gladly laced her fingers with his, “Yeah. I’d love to.”

.

They had a comfortable, parallel familiarity. 

Luka appreciated it. 

He wasn’t really “famous”, but his music had a pretty decent following online and he had way too many people introduce themselves claiming to know his entire life story. It was unnerving, being recognized and chatted up in bars, never knowing what people really wanted with him. He was an awkward kid who sat in his bedroom and played guitar all day that grew into an awkward adult who stumbled his way into a record deal because his bandmates knew how to sell themselves and he tagged along.

Now the band was gone, spread to the corners of the globe, and he was back in Paris with a couple hundred thousand Instagram followers and no plan. 

Chloe didn’t pretend. 

She had a copy of his band’s single album tucked on one of her bookshelves, bought 18 months ago when Juleka told her they’d released it, still in the plastic wrap because it wasn’t her kind of music (she wasn’t really a big music person. Listened to a lot of podcasts, though). She didn’t know all the trivia about his life that the people that recognized him occasionally on the street did. They shared a lot of indirect history, so it was rare they remembered people the same way or shared a memory.

But she found his private accounts before she followed his public ones. She texted him and asked him what his favorite flavor of ice cream was, and then it was waiting for him in her freezer the next evening when they watched _Ever After_ together and swapped between the original English and the horrendous French dub every fifteen minutes. They could swap stories about Mme. Mendeliev dissolving the corner of her desk in an accident in chemistry class and grumble about all the terror and destruction Lila Rossi seemed to revel in and the pain she’d caused their friends. He caught her sending flowers to Ivan last week when his grandmother died, and the contract Juleka was on was not the first one jumpstarted by Chloe dropping her name to just the right person at a party. 

She stayed quiet during the meeting, taking the time to organize her notes from class on the tablet she carried with her everywhere. There was a dog sticker on the bottom corner of the case.

“ _S_ _abrina can’t come with me everywhere anymore. Only fitting I keep her a part of her on her replacement,”_ she’d said when he asked about it, tracing the well-worn outline absentmindedly, “ _Pomeranians are her favorite.”_

He’d figured he was probably a goner when she’d scribbled her number on his arm. 

Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t soft, or sweet. She was ferocity and edges, like a summer thunderstorm. 

But storms weren’t all unkind, and neither was she. 

“You’re Chloe _Bourgeois,_ ” Collin, the singer, blurted halfway through the meeting, interrupting Luka halfway through his thoughts about record labels.

To her credit, Chloe barely twitched and just kept tapping at her tablet, “That is my name.”

“What kind of band are you putting together here, Couffaine?” Collin asked, leaning back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee, “I don’t want to be in some vanity project.”  
  
“Better pass on this guy, Luka,” Chloe said, grip tightening ever so slightly on her stylus, “He hasn’t been listening to you for the last ten minutes.”

Collin sat up a little straighter, “Wait, is that why your old band broke up? Couldn’t convince them to cater to the princess?”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Luka hissed before Chloe could respond, standing up so fast his chair crashed to the ground behind him, iron bouncing against the brick pavement with an ugly _clang_ that made everyone else in the cafe turn their heads.

"No need to get pissy about it. I just call it as I see it," Collin smirked. He stood up too slowly for Luka's taste, taking a long, purposeful sip of his coffee as he shrugged his jacket back on. 

"Bold of you to say you see anything when you're so obviously deaf and blind," muttered Chloe under her breath, looking up from her tablet in one long, slow blink, "I don't have shit to do with this band. At least you won't either."

Luka didn't respond immediately, nails digging half moons into his palms from how tightly his fists were curled, "Collin, it's time for you to leave. Don't contact me again."

Collin rolled his eyes, "C'mon man, you grew up here, right? You remember all the shit she pulled trying to be a superhero and you think she's not taking advantage of you now?" 

"Chloe is a good person, which is more than I can say about you."

Luka wasn't a fighter. Even as a superhero, his job had been to assess and reassess. To plan. To ensure the best possible outcome. Hell, he’d been stuck with a goddamn harp as a weapon. Ever try to fight with a harp? Absolute fucking nightmare. 

He was out of plan. 

Thankfully, Collin got the hint and backed away. 

"Out," he spat, "Get _out._ "

It wasn’t until Collin was out the door until Luka picked his chair up off the ground and sat down again, turning in towards Chloe in an effort to avoid the curious eyes of the other patrons. Any luck, and no one recognized them and caught that on video. 

“Sorry,” he said, leg bouncing, heart still racing a little, “I had no idea he was such a jackass.” 

“I’m pretty used to it,” she said quietly, turning the tablet over in her hands.

It probably shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. 

“I had a very public mental breakdown at fifteen televised to the entirety of western Europe,” she looked up at him, smiling a little, taut and unnatural. To reassure him she was alright. It was very distinctly un-Chloe, “This kind of stuff comes with the territory.”

The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“It didn’t give him the right,” Luka said firmly, leaning in. 

She shrugged, “I’m surprised it took that long for him to realize it. He’s been staring at me for the last 10 minutes.” 

“Chloe,” he said, catching her eyes, “He was wrong.” 

He couldn’t read her, and she didn’t reply immediately. 

“Thanks,” she said eventually, softer than he’d ever heard her speak.

“Anytime.”

.

He didn’t bring up being plucked off the street by Honeybee. 

Especially after dealing with Collin, it seemed like it’d be rubbing salt in the wound. 

But here he was again, a week later, being flown to safety again by the blonde superhero that reminded him so much of Chloe.

He had actually been paying attention this time, but that hadn’t done him much good. The second the akuma hit, Chloe had told him she’d left her sunglasses at the restaurant and shoved him in a bush before sprinting _towards_ the explosions. 

Call it the residual effects of moonlighting as a superhero in his youth, he’d taken off after her. 

“What the hell were you thinking? When I said ‘See you around’, I was not being literal, you moron! I did not mean _run towards the supervillain next time one shows up_!” she snapped.

“I didn’t mean to, my girlfriend-”

If there was such a thing as a stumble in midair, Honeybee managed it. Luka felt his heart jump into his throat as her grip around his chest slipped before she caught herself.

“Downdraft caught me off guard,” she said weakly as soon as she’d recovered, “Girlfriend, huh? She as dumb as you?"

“She ran back that way when the akuma showed up, I was trying to make sure she was safe,” he said, trying to twist around in Honeybee’s arms to see if he could spot her down on the street, “I lost her in the crowd.”

“Don’t worry, she’s fine!” Honeybee replied quickly, trying to turn him back around.

He stared at her. 

“How do you know that?” 

She froze, wings and all, sending the two of them plummeting to earth for a terrifying second.

Next time, he was going to make sure to get saved by Carapace or something. This girl was flighty. 

“Ha, another downdraft. Weird. Sorry,” she said, laughing nervously, “You’re Luka, right? You told me that was your name last time. And Chat Noir just messaged us about getting Chloe Bourgeouis to safety a couple minutes ago.” 

Safe. She was safe. 

Wait. 

“...How do you know Chloe’s my girlfriend?” 

“You’ve put her in like, five of your latest Instagram posts, I just kind of assumed,” she said, setting him down on one of the side streets about three blocks away from the Akuma, "You're not exactly subtle." 

“Oh. Yeah.” 

Chloe had definitely been kissing his cheek in one of those pictures. Okay. So Honeybee followed him on Instagram. Cool. Plenty of people followed him on Instagram.

“Anyway, this better be the last time I see you face to face like this for a _while,_ newbie,” she huffed, hovering at his eyeline, “Stay away next time, whatever your idiot girlfriend does.” 

She didn’t give him the chance to defend Chloe (because she absolutely was _not_ an idiot, weird obsession with her sunglasses aside) before zipping back into the air.

Wait. 

Those pictures he’d posted with Chloe. 

They’d been on his private account. 

.

_Shit._

Maybe he wouldn’t notice. 

Besides, plenty of people followed his private account. A couple hundred. 

But Luka kept _looking_ at her. 

_Play it cool, Bourgeois. You’ll grovel to Marinette later and figure out a plan. You can handle this._

“You’ve been weird since that akuma attack earlier today,” she said, looking up from her textbook and quirking her eyebrow as casually as possible, “What’s up?” 

“That new hero, Honeybee.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes, trying to catch herself halfway through, “Oh. Her.” 

“She follows me on Instagram,” Luka said.

“So does half of Paris. You should probably make another post, by the way. Algorithm doesn’t like it when you go too long between them. Your social media manager needs to be more on top of that,” she commented, highlighting a few sentences in her textbook and jotting down a note on her tablet to match.

“No, Chlo, she follows my private Instagram,” he replied, turning his phone over in his hands a few times, looking half stricken, “She told me she saw the pictures of you I posted.”

Okay, good news: he was honest and upfront, just like Marinette and Adrien had said. Heart on his sleeve. That was nice. She liked that. 

Also good news: by the look of him, he definitely hadn’t connected the dots between Chloe Bourgeois and Honeybee. 

Bad news: he looked like he was about to puke. 

“Oh.” 

“So I _must_ know her. I don’t let people I don’t know follow that account,” he said, “I’ve looked through my follower list three times, I know _everyone_ on it.” 

“Maybe your posts got leaked? Or she’s some friend of a friend and she's a fan and makes them show her your personal posts? It’s probably nothing to worry about. Ladybug and Chat Noir wouldn’t keep a stalker around as a hero,” she offered, capping her highlighter, “Honeybee did an interview with Alya earlier this week, maybe Alya showed her.”

He nodded, looking thoroughly unconvinced. 

Three years of perfection protecting her secret identity down the drain because she couldn't think straight around a cute boy like she was 14 year old Marinette. She would never be able to recover from the shame. No superhero had every blown their secret identity in a worse way than she had managed to. Twice. 

“Don’t think about it too hard, Pretty Boy,” she said, pushing herself up to sitting and stretching before stealing a hair tie off his wrist. At least until she threw him off her tracks a little more, it was definitely time to ditch the daily ponytail - maybe a bun? She loved her hair down but it was waist length now and a _huge_ pain to deal with, “Even if she follows you, what’s there to worry about? She’s not going to out herself in your DMs as one of Paris’ great heroes unless she’s an absolute idiot.”

(She was an absolute idiot.)

“Just weird to think about, I guess,” he smiled, grabbing the hair tie back out of her fingers and running his hands through her hair, sending shivers up her spine, “That a superhero could be that close to me in a city of 2 million people.”

Chloe smiled, leaning into his touch as his nails dragged lightly against her scalp. _You have no idea,_ she wanted to say.

“What’s your schedule tomorrow?” she said instead as he pulled her hair into a bun.

“As before, I remain an unemployed musician,” he chuckled, gathering up her hair and then letting it fall back down.

She tipped her head back so she was looking up at him, relishing the softness in his eyes as his met hers and the gentle warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her waist, “Then are you interested in lunch with Marinette and Adrien? They were whining about how I’ve been hogging you.”

“Maybe I’ve been hogging you,” he said playfully, “What then?”

“Then hopefully they’ll grill you about your intentions,” she replied, tracing the lines in his knuckles, “And they’ll finally leave me the hell alone about it.”

“Knowing Marinette and Adrien, they will not leave either of us alone,” Luka chuckled, “They’re going to want to know everything.”

“Then we better get our story straight before lunch,” she said, trying to calm the butterflies suddenly rising from her stomach into her throat, “Are we dating?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious at this point.”

_My girlfriend. My girlfriend. My girlfriend._

“Exclusively?”

He kissed her cheek and Chloe had to resist the deep temptation to melt into a puddle, “I’m certainly not interested in anyone else, but I don’t want to rush you.”

She smiled, pressing up against him a little more and turning to kiss the corner of his jaw, “Stop being so sweet and considerate. It’s fucking annoying. You need to have some sort of fault.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, dating exclusively”, then?”

“Yeah,” Chloe willed the blush to settle from her cheeks, “I'd like that.”

_My girlfriend. My girlfriend. My girlfriend._

Luka kissed her neck just below her ear, gentle and slow, sending shivers down her spine.

Well, that answered that.

  
  



	2. Month Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jagged Stone's birthday party has an uninvited guest, and Luka has a hunch about Honeybee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of my doc for this chapter is "get fuckin wrecked lila rossi" 
> 
> also, the idea of chloe and luka painting their nails together is like 60% of the reason I ship them, can you imagine how freaking cute that would be

Two months into the relationship, Luka Couffaine had a hunch. 

It wasn't really that substantial, but it did sit constantly in the back of his mind. 

She owned way more bee merchandise than a disgraced former hero of Paris would. 

It wasn't blatant - she wasn't toting around bumblebee plushies or putting up Save the Bees posters in the hotel lobby - but it was there in all the little things that no one but Chloe would ever see. Where, logically, someone who's had a mental breakdown over being a bee-themed superhero to impress her absent mother would really try to avoid having bees. 

(No one but Chloe until she had a boyfriend, at least.) 

Her shelves were honeycomb shaped. Her favorite sunglasses now were black hexagons, which sat in stunning contrast with her long, golden hair. Her favorite soap was artisan and expensive and smelled just like fresh clover honey. All the plants on the balcony of her apartment, handpicked by herself, buzzed with little bumblebees, flitting from flower to flower. She almost always wore a simple golden comb with a tiny bee on it in her hair (a gift from Marinette a few years ago, she told him). There were several little ceramic beehive paperweights on her desk. 

Practically every time an akuma showed up, Chloe disappeared. Any time she didn’t, she seemed even more high-strung than usual and would not turn off the livestreams of the fights. She had a habit of muttering into her purse and slipping unwrapped hard candies in it.

He’d also never been able to track down exactly how Honeybee knew that Chloe was his girlfriend. 

And now, he realized, sitting across from her on the living room floor as she carefully painted his nails, she only owned one brand of nail polish and that nail polish had honeycombs on the label. 

So, it was a hunch.

.

"Oh my gosh, you're Luka!" 

Luka had chosen to leave her side at what seemed to be the exact wrong moment.

Chloe kept her back turned, swallowed a cringe, and continued nodding along to the older producer's story about her kid's piano recital. This party was the first event they'd gone to together, but practically everyone from Lycee was here as well, so it wasn’t damning evidence. Jagged Stone was pretty generous with birthday party plus ones for both the girl who’d designed the wardrobe for his last three tours and the girl who kept a suite set aside for him in his favorite hotel for whenever he managed to get back to Paris. 

And what better place for an up and coming, newly solo guitarist to make some industry connections?  
  
People called Chloe Bourgeois many things, but no one called her stupid. 

Who the _fuck_ even said gosh anymore. Leave that shit in 4th grade where it belongs. 

"Guilty as charged," he said in response. Chloe resisted the urge to whip around and drape his free arm over her waist. Politics. Schmoozing. His public image. His music. That's what Jagged Stone's birthday was all about. 

“ _So_ incredible seeing you here! My friend has told me soooo much about you-”

Wait. 

She _knew_ that sickly sweet, nasal whine.

Well, politics be damned. 

“Excuse me for a moment, Madame Violet,” Chloe said gracefully, tipping her champagne at the older woman lightly and giving her best socialite smile before whirling around setting eyes on what may well have been her second least favorite human being on the planet (Gabriel Agreste still held the grand title). Lila Rossi was hanging on Luka’s arm as he awkwardly stared back at her, fluttering her eyelashes at him, reaching out to touch his hair-

Oh, _hell_ no.

Chloe made a beeline for her boyfriend, 123 pounds of iridescent black taffeta and seething rage, pressing a light kiss on his cheek and pulling his hand onto her waist. 

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

Luka relaxed as Lila stepped back to a more respectable distance. There was a shimmering red lipstick print on his cheek that neither of them wiped away.

“Lila,” Chloe crooned, matching the Italian’s tone, “I wasn’t aware you were on the guest list tonight. Breaking into the music industry now? ” 

There was a flicker of recognition in the other girl’s eyes and she stepped back to a more respectable distance, “Chloe. I wasn’t aware you knew Luka. The label I’m working with is considering signing him.” 

"He happens to be my boyfriend."

They stood there for a minute, daring the other to flinch. 

“Boyfriend?" Lila asked innocently, "Why, I'm surprised I haven't heard about it!" 

"There's not much overlap in our social circles anymore," Chloe commented, voice dripping with poison honey, "Not after that stunt you pulled when we were 16. Targeting Marinette you could almost get away with, but making Adrien miserable? Makes you a lot of enemies."

Lila paled slightly, gripping her glass of champagne tighter, "Well, we all make mistakes when we're young, don't we? You'd know." 

Luka's hand at her waist drew her in slightly. 

"Oh, yes, Lila, I do know," Chloe smirked, "I probably know better than anyone else in Paris. But because I know, I also know how to see through a cheap self-redemption narrative."

Chloe let her statement hang in the air for a moment, taking a slow sip of champagne.

"Now, since I was obviously too subtle before, I need to know who invited you here tonight, because you and I both know you were banned from the premises of this hotel when we were 16 and I have no intention of revoking that."

"You can't do anything without making a scene, Chloe. And in front of all the biggest names in music in France? It would be quite hellish for both of your reputations." 

Chloe swapped her empty champagne flute for a glass of red wine on the tray of a passing waiter, admiring it with a casual twist of her wrist and settling her eyes on Lila over the rim, "I warned you in Lycee before you fell down those stairs and I'll remind you again now, Rossi. You do not want to go to war with me."

"Who said anything about war?" Lila replied, taking a step in, "I'm not the one picking fights based on ancient history."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, "You certainly sought out ancient history pretty quickly trying to flirt with Juleka Couffaine's brother." 

Lila made a face, flicking her olive eyes back toward Luka for a moment, "Oh, you're that recluse's brother? Shame. You were almost cute, and you seem so much better adjusted that she ever was." 

"Don't you dare talk about Juleka that way, you lying piece of shit," Chloe hissed, stepping between Lila and Luka before he could react. 

"Too bad that he's taken, really. I was hoping to let bygones be bygones and offer him a spot on our label, but we're only signing artists without _baggage_ ," Lila leaned in, inches from Chloe's nose. 

A full glass of red wine tipped unceremoniously down the front of Lila's pearl-white cocktail dress. 

"Oh dear, did you not notice where my hand was?" Chloe said, louder than necessary, relishing the eyes that turned their way, "What a tragedy. That looks like dupioni. You'll never get that stain out."

Lila shrieked, "How _dare_ you!" 

"You should get home as soon as possible, there may still be hope if you can treat it right away," Chloe pulled out her phone and waved down one of the waiters, "Jaques, I'm calling a car. Please escort Miss Rossi to the lobby to meet it and make sure she gets in safely."

"What the hell was that?" Luka asked, bewildered, as they watched Lila storm away, hand still dancing at her waist.

"That was the ever charming Lila Rossi, Marinette's middle school bully turned drama vlogger," Chloe answered, trying to wipe the disgust off her face. 

Luka squinted at the Italian girl as she stepped into the elevator, followed closely but Jaques, "I don't think I ever met her back then, but I sure as hell didn't appreciate how she talked about Jules."

"That is the girl that got Marinette expelled from Francoise Dupont," Chloe replied, picking up a fresh glass of wine from the tray set down by the waiter, "Also teamed up with Gabriel Agreste to get Adrien pulled out of school and dating her when he didn’t fall for her lies. Worked for two months, too."

"What the hell is she doing here? Is she in the music industry now?" 

Chloe shrugged, eyeing the crowd, "She could be the queen of England and I'm still not letting her set foot in this hotel. That bitch has a silver tongue and she could have half this room convinced the moon is green and made of gummy bears in twenty minutes if you let her." 

Luka nodded, "Surprised she stuck around Paris."

Chloe grimaced, "We cannot shake this bitch. It is absolutely _ridiculous._ Get ready to go _very_ public with this relationship, because I guarantee you she's already tweeted about it, in French and English, and her million fucking Twitter followers are _very opinionated."_

"There are worse things,” he shrugged, “I was hoping to keep the spotlight on Jagged tonight, though.”

Chloe’s phone pinged.

[ _Winx Club: Redux: 18 new messages]_

_[7:13pm] dupain in ur ass: OH MY GOD LILAS HERE AGFGHJKL:”_

_[7:13pm] dupain in ur ass: MAY FUCKN DAY_

_[7:13pm] dupain in ur ass: WHO TF BROUGHT HER_

_[7:13pm] Pretty fly for a wifi: im ON IT GIRL we will KNOW_

_[7:14pm] Perpetually Underdressed™: dude are u kidding me why cant this chick just stay tf away_

_[7:14pm] Literal Sunshine: m where did you go please don’t fight her right now_

_[7:14pm] dupain in ur ass: GIVe ME ONE GOOD REASON NOT TO AGRESTE_

_[7:14pm] Literal Sunshine: i reeeeeeeeally dont want to bail you out of jail tonight :(_

_[7:16pm] dupain in ur ass: cash out that trust fund baby >:) _

_[7:16pm] Literal Sunshine: princess pls_

_[7:21pm] Perpetually Underdressed™: oh shit shes walking toward luka does luka know about her_

_[7:21pm] pretty fly for a wifi: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_

_[7:22pm] Perpetually Underdressed™: guys i dont think luka knows about her oh shit @chloe check ur phone_

_[7:22pm] dupain in ur ass: oh my god im too far away i cant get down fast enought CHlOE PROTECT UR MAN_

_[7:22pm] dupain in ur ass: LOOK UP TURN AROUND TURN AROUND_

_[7:22pm] pretty fly for a wifi: oh shit she did she’s doing it GO GET HER GIRL_

_[7:26pm] Pretty fly for a wifi: [view 1 image] YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO agreste turns out ur not paying for bail u gotta fund a fuckin FUNERAL bc chloe just SLAYED LILA_

_[7:26pm] Literal Sunshine: >:3c lilies or carnations? _

“Do you think Jagged invited her?” Luka asked as Chloe scanned her texts.

_[7:28pm] You: Cesaire, find whoever the hell brought her. I will end them._

Chloe scoffed, “The guy who’s hired Marinette for his last three album covers and his entire tour wardrobe? Doubt it. She must have been a plus one.”

_[7:29pm] pretty fly for a wifi: oh. I will find them._

_[7:29pm] pretty fly for a wifi: mark my words._

“Ah, shit. I wanted to tell Jules before we went public,” Luka said, checking his phone as well, no doubt shifting through the dozens of people already swarming his account, "What time is it in Bali?" 

"Almost 2 in the morning," Chloe grimaced. 

"...And she texted me. I'm gonna call her and do some damage control." 

She gave his hand a squeeze as he bought his phone up to his ear and he kissed her forehead. He smiled back, soft and sure. 

"Hey, Jules," she heard him say as he walked out of earshot to find a quiet corner, "Yeah, it's true. No, I haven't been keeping secrets from you, don’t be dramatic-" 

Alya popped up behind her and snatched Chloe's phone out of her hands, "I'm confiscating this for the rest of the night. You guys do _not_ need to be looking at Twitter right now."

"That bad?" 

"It'll pass," she replied, tucking Chloe's phone in her dress pocket and going back to scrolling through the guest list on her own, "10 euros on which of you the internet is labeling as a gold digger." 

"Trick question!" Marinette said, bouncing in from nowhere, mouth half full of crackers, "It's both of you!" 

Chloe was very close to breaking her two drink rule for public events. It wasn't a great idea to be the hostess of the party and also blackout drunk, but she could not lie, it was a tempting one.

"We should make a statement," Chloe muttered, grabbing a glass of wine and knocking half of it back in one gulp. She'd organized everything already. She deserved this. 

"Nope, no statement, don't gratify her by responding directly," Marinette said, shoving her hand in Chloe's face and shaking it side to side. 

She had a sneaking suspicion Marinette had tossed her own two-drink rule out the window as well. 

"Look, we gotta ask the real question here," Alya said, eyes glued to her phone screen, "What's your celebrity couple name? Chloluka? Lukloe? Bourgeouffaine? I like the ring of Chloluka but I think Lukloe is a little puncher." 

"I could not possibly care less about anything you are saying right now," Chloe groaned, pulling Marinette's hand off her face. 

"Oooooh, I like Lukloe," Marinette said, poking her head over Alya's shoulder, "Pick that one." 

Alya smirked up at Chloe, "Last call, Bourgeois, we are in a golden minute of opportunity, you are locked into this celebrity couple name for _life_." 

Chloe rolled her eyes in response and downed the last of her wine. 

Maybe she'd done that a little too fast. She hadn't eaten all that much today. 

"Well, if you don't care, Lukloe is our grand prize winner! Aaaaaaand posted!" 

"Cesare, what are you doing?" Chloe deadpanned. 

Alya peered back at Chloe over the rim of her glasses, "Are you asking like, 'what am I doing this instant?' or 'what am I doing with my life?' Because the answer to the first question is spin control. And the answer to the second is completely rebuilding the entire news industry with my own two hands and winning myself a Pulitzer Prize. The two are related, but not directly. You better like that tweet when I give you your phone back, by the way, choosing which picture to use was a challenge."

"I am truly in your debt," Chloe replied, watching Alya grin at her like a fucking fox. 

"In _so_ many ways," she confirmed, "Where's the guest list? I have some names I want to cross check." 

"Give me my phone, I'll send you a copy," Chloe held out her hand for it, grateful to feel the familiar weight in her hand. A few seconds later, Alya's phone dinged and Chloe tucked her phone back into her clutch, snapping it shut with a satisfying _click_. 

"Chlooooe, give Alya back your phone," Marinette said, lunging for the purse, "You're gonna get stuck in a Twitter loop." 

"I'm not going to look at it!" Chloe protested, pulling the purse out of Marinette's reach,"I need to be easily reachable, sound is only on for you guys and a couple hotel staff to make sure everything runs smoothly the rest of the night." 

Chloe felt her face flush with the third glass of wine. It was not working as stress relief as well as she'd hoped it would.

Alya smiled, face inches from her phone screen, "Mar, go get Adrien, I'm going to find Nino, we regroup here in 5 to interrogate my shortlist."

Chloe tapped her foot. Alya looked up, "Triple-B, you go enjoy the party. You and Luka aren't going to be under the radar enough to help out after that glorious display. I _will_ let you deliver the final blow." 

"Deal," Chloe said grudgingly. She didn't like it,but she knew she didn't have the patience for long, political, interrogative conversations right now.

"I'll go find Luka," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking the direction he'd wandered off in, ignoring the glance and the smile Alya and Marinette shared as she did. Why the hell did she hang out with these people. There was no respect. Nothing but side eyes and invasive questions and so. Many. Nicknames. 

She had a reputation, and these four dorks absolutely wrecked it. 

He was still on the phone when she found him halfway down a back hallway, turned away from the party.

“Look, I like her. A lot.”

Chloe froze, backing away quietly, turning back around the corner so he wouldn’t turn around and see her. _He liked her_. Of course he did. He was dating her. He told her he liked her all the time. 

It was a little different hearing him say it when she wasn’t supposed to be listening.

“Yeah, I know we’re not much alike,” he paused, and Chloe could hear him chuckle, “But every time she smiles, I hear music I’ve never heard before.” 

A better woman wouldn’t eavesdrop. 

Eh, she was still working on the whole “better woman” thing.

“Yeah, Mom knows. She likes her too,” there was a beat, “No, that’s _not_ that hard to believe. Jules, you’re just giving me a hard time because I didn’t tell you after the first date, I know you like Chloe too.” 

“Dude, you invited her to your birthday party last year. Don’t front with me and just go to bed.”

He was laughing again, “Yes, I’ll send you the picture. Go to bed. Love you too.” 

Chloe backed up a little further, wiping the sappy smile off her face and trying to focus on the buffet table. They were low on napkins. 

Fuck, she wanted to kiss him so badly right now.

Napkins. Fix the napkins. 

Oh god, he liked her.

“Hey.” 

She jumped at his voice, whipping her head so fast she heard it pop a little, “Hey. Alya’s hunting down whoever brought Lila.”

“You’re not leading the charge?” he asked, an amused smile showing his dimples.

Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically, “Apparently spilling a glass of wine all over Lila means that I’m ‘too conspicuous’ and would ‘scare them away’.”

He laughed at her air quotes, tucking her bangs behind her ear, “She’s probably right. You’re wound as tight as a spring right now.”

“Ugh, tell me about it, the third glass of wine did _nothing_ to help,” she complained, still half-thinking about the napkins.

She shivered at his hands on her waist, feeling his breath tickle her ear as he kissed it gently, “May I suggest a different form of stress relief?”

Chloe bit back a moan as he lowered his head down to kiss her neck, “God, yes.”

“Good,” he said in between kisses as she led him out to the elevators, “Because watching you get territorial was _incredibly_ hot.”

She giggled as they tumbled into the elevator together, yanking off his tie as he pinned her against the wall, “Being a righteous bitch is my specialty, in case you haven’t noticed.”

. 

Luka wasn’t sure what he expected to happen to him today, but Ladybug, hero of Paris, crashing into his apartment with the snake Miraculous halfway through lunch and pulling him into a life or death fight was definitely not on the schedule. 

Or, at least, he expected a life or death fight. 

Instead, he was standing on a roof, watching Honeybee lose her absolute fucking shit. 

“Absolutely not. No. This is not happening,” Honeybee said as soon as she saw him, sending his stomach plummeting through the floorboards.

Maybe his hunch was premature. 

“She’s really not mad about seeing you,” Chat Noir said quietly out of the corner of his mouth. 

She looked pretty mad. 

“We need the skillset, Honey, don’t look at me like that,” Ladybug deadpanned, “Especially with Rena and Carapace out of town this week.” 

“I’ll look at you however the hell you deserve to be looked at,” Honeybee fired back, crossing her arms over her chest, wings bristling up, “And we are no way bringing this guy onto the team. Why the hell didn’t you warn me?!”

“Aw, thought you’d be excited about it,” Ladybug pouted, “Too bad, though. Until I’m voted out as team captain, this is not a democracy.” 

And that smug look Ladybug was giving Honeybee was _really_ familiar. 

“You are not going to make it to your wedding day because they will never find your body,” Honeybee hissed, “This is ridiculous.” 

Wait, Ladybug was _engaged?_

“Viperion is not a newbie. He helped us plenty of times with the first Hawkmoth, and he’s going to help us out again. Second chance is a very useful ability to have on hand,” Ladybug replied, entirely unbothered by the fuming rage six inches from her face. 

“Bad enough that I have to babysit him since he keeps running after his dumb girlfriend, now I have to babysit him during fights? He’s got a harp. How the hell is he supposed to fight with a _harp._ Incredible ancient magic couldn’t give him a knife or something? I’ve got knives now. Why shouldn’t he?”

She knew who he was? Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of magic in the mask that kept people from recognizing you?

“Well, his girlfriend is just going to have to deal with it herself now and you don’t have to babysit him at all. Rena regularly fights with a flute, in case you haven’t noticed in the last three years.” 

She went even redder than she’d already been at that and lost her ability to form words for several seconds.

“She thinks you’re cute in that suit. Does not deal with attraction well,” Chat Noir whispered, watching the two girls with all too much amusement, “Never has.”

What the hell had he gotten himself into. 

“I don’t want to cause any problems on the team. Ladybug, you can choose someone else. I’m obviously not wanted here,” he said, moving to take off the bracelet before Ladybug held up her hand in his face.

“Don’t you dare. Honeybee is being a drama queen and she’s actually very happy to have you on the team.”

“She seems less than thrilled,” he replied, watching the blonde wear a dent into the cement of the roof with her furious pacing.

Chat Noir laughed, “Last year, we threw her a surprise party and she got _so mad_ because she was only wearing her second string casual wear and no one gave her time to prepare. She just absolutely hates surprises. Half the time she just shuts down when she gets really important news.” 

Luka didn’t answer, and Chat Noir continued, looking at him with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Did you know she thought you were really cute when we were back in Lycee? LB and I have been laughing about it for like a week. Never admitted it but she bought all the Viperion merchandise in Paris at one point. I saw it in her closet.”

“Chat Noir I will throw you in the Seine if you say another word,” Honeybee snapped, still blushing furiously. 

“There was _merchandise_ of me?” Luka asked dumbly. He was entirely out of brainpower. 

“Oh yeah, you were a big hit on the indie art circuit. You left on tour about the same time it started to pop up, though. Made you even more popular, since you were suddenly gone. Mysterious edgy snake boy with time powers? Huge hit.”

If his hunch was right. 

Then he only knew two people that were able to get under Chloe’s skin like this. 

And, y’know, that would explain a _lot._

“You guys are doing a terrible job with the whole _secret identity_ thing,” Luka whispered back to Adrien, who shrugged nonchalantly. 

“The whole secret identity thing meant my father managed to pass off the butterfly miraculous and disappear because I had a nervous breakdown and no one knew what the hell was happening,” he replied, “We decided afterwards that it’s probably better to have people clued in if they’re going to be regulars.”

Luka nodded, “And you decided bringing in the guy who’s been dating Chloe for two months was a wise choice for the life-or-death superhero team?”

“Nah, we decided the guy we’ve known since we were 14 who’s already done this before and proved he was good under stress was a good recruit for the life-or-death superhero team,” Ladybug said, leaning against the railing of the observation deck, “Making Chloe miserable was just a fun bonus.”

Their casual camaraderie was broken when Chloe chucked Ladybug - _Marinette-_ over the guardrail full force, sending her flying through the air, and stepped back with a self-satisfied huff and turning back to the boys. 

“Hi Lu,” she said, cheeks still pink, folding her arms across her chest again, “Don’t look at me like that. She deserved it.”

Adrien roared with laughter.

"You just _threw Marinette over the edge of a building!_ ” Luka replied, gesturing wildly at the edge, looking between the two blonde superheroes and their entirely nonchalant attitudes. 

Chloe rolled her eyes, “She’s Ladybug.”

She held up three fingers, not even bothering to do the casual glance over the side of the building that Chat Noir took, counting down the seconds. 

On cue, as she put the final finger down, the yoyo hooked on an air vent and Ladybug zipped back onto the rooftop, smiling.

“Good warm up,” she commented, “Not your best throw, though. You’re putting too much power into your left arm.” 

Luka rubbed his temples, fighting back a sudden headache, “Oh my god, you two have been Ladybug and Chat Noir the _whole time._ No wonder you guys were so stressed out in Lycee.” 

“I forgot what sleep was for several years,” Marinette sighed, “It’s nice to finally fight a villain who values quality over quantity. I ever seen M. Ramier again I may have to commit murder in cold blood.”

"I’d help you hide the body,” Adrien agreed, scrunching up his nose.

“Wait, then,” Luka narrowed his eyes, thinking back to the second and last date he’d ever had with Marinette, where she’d ranted in tears about Chat Noir for forty-five minutes, “Have you guys always known each other’s identities?”

Chloe laughed at that, “God I fucking _wish_ , do you have any idea how maddening it was to watch these two dance around each other? I figured them both out when we were fifteen and _they_ didn’t figure each other out for another year and a half. It was _ridiculous_.”

“It was a complicated situation!” they both replied instantly, giggling at each other.

“No, it wasn’t, you two are just morons,” Chloe replied, deadpan, “Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it was to convince you” - she jabbed her finger into Adrien’s chest- “that Ladybug loved you when you were in your shitty post-Gabe self-hate spiral? Same conversation every day! ‘But Chloe, she _hates_ me, she should _hate_ me, I failed my lady, how could I ever look her in the eye again’, and then turning around and trying to convince Ladybug that she should drop the whole secret identity thing and maybe stop referring to Adrien as a friend every two minutes because his massive crush on Ladybug had shifted to a massive crush on Marinette trying to get over Ladybug? Nightmare! Absolute mess! And completely avoidable!” 

It was Marinette’s turn to pout this time, “Look, we figured it out eventually.” 

“Melodramatic, tear-stricken confession in the rain,” Chloe continued, looking back at Luka and rolling her eyes. The teasing glint in her eyes gave her away, “It was very sweet, there was an umbrella and everything. Narrative parallels back to when they met and all that shit.” 

“I will take your miraculous back if you’re mean to us, Chloe,” Marinette warned, crossing her arms and fake-huffing her disapproval. 

Chloe laughed, “As if, you’re way too fucking short to reach it. And only one of us has wings.” 

Marinette huffed again, “Bringing _that one_ up to Tikki tonight, you watch your back, Bourgeois.”

“In your dreams, Dupain-Cheng.”

“I called you my girlfriend,” Luka blurted, the final dot connecting in his mind as Chloe whirled around to look at him, banter forgotten, “I called you my girlfriend to your face after like. A week. You almost dropped me.”

He watched Chloe blush again, pink spreading like a fire under her mask, and Adrien cackled next to him.

. 

"You dated Marinette," she said later, as they watched the sun set over the city, Luka's arm draped over her shoulder. 

She felt him chuckle more than she heard it, "That's a very generous use of the term, but yeah, you could call it that." 

Thick silence filled the space between them, Chloe second guessing every way she had to ask the question that had clawed at the back of her mind for months. 

He'd dated Marinette. 

Why was he dating _her?_

"I went on two dates with Marinette," he said eventually, and she wondered if he could read how she tensed up in the shoulders or feel her leeching self-doubt, "The first one she didn't talk at all for the first 45 minutes. The second one, she started babbling about Chat Noir five minutes in. At first, she was pissed as hell at him for some dumb move he'd made, and then it turned really sweet and she stated talking about how incredible he was and how stupid and cruel she was in return. Eventually she started sobbing about not appreciating him and just ran off."

Luka shrugged, combing his fingers through Chloe's hair, "For a long time I didn't understand what happened. It makes a lot more sense now." 

"I'm sorry," she said softly. 

"Don't be," he replied, resting his head on tops of hers, "Marinette only ever had one song in her heart. I knew that going in, by the way she looked at Adrien. I was just naive enough to think I could change the melody." 

Chloe traced the callouses on his fingers gently. His hands were rough, but long and delicate, tipped in holographic black polish that she'd applied carefully last week. She had never owned black nail polish before knowing Luka. 

"Marinette and I aren't much alike," she murmured, moving her hand up to trace the bottom edge of his sleeve. He’d been at Marinette and Adrien’s engagement party. Maybe she was the distraction he wanted there, from the girl he’d loved so long ago.

He shrugged against her again, "Life would be boring if there was only one genre of music. I think you're a lot more similar than you give yourself credit for."

He paused before continuing, head still on top of hers, pulling her closer, “You’re brave. Fiercely loyal. Dedicated to justice. Both of you are intelligent, too. And charismatic when you want to be, or absolute terrors when crossed.”

Chloe snorted, finger trailing up his forearm and back down again as she traced out the branch of the cherry blossoms. 

“I like you for all those things _and_ the ones you don’t share with Marinette,” he said gently, his head moving to rest on her shoulder.

She twisted around so she could see his face, painted in sincere honesty, and she fought back the lump in her throat and the tears welling in her eyes, trying to find the words to express the insecurity she hadn’t felt so acutely since she was fifteen. 

“I-” she started, words dying in her mouth as the lump in her throat overtook them.

Luka smiled at her, soft and sweet, patient to a fault. Ready for whenever she could speak. 

“When I was fifteen,” she started again, wiping the tears from her eyes, “My mom came back from New York for the first time in years. I was so excited, and she immediately offered Marinette an internship. With her. She didn’t even give me the time of day.” 

Chloe paused, dropping her gaze from his eyes to his hands, “Marinette’s one of my best friends. I love her. She didn’t even take the stupid internship, she tried to fix me and my mom’s relationship. But stuff like that… it fucked with me. It’s happened a lot.” 

“Chloe,” he said, sweet and gentle, tipping her chin up to look at him again and cradling her cheek in his hand, “You’re not my second choice.”

Relief washed through her as he said it, and the tears came spilling out. 

“I’m not dating you because I was having a pity party for myself on that balcony at Marinette and Adrien’s engagement party and you happened to show up,” he continued, “I’m dating you because I like you for everything that makes you _you._ I like when you have your entire wardrobe for the next week and a half planned out, and ramble to me about intellectual property law, and spill an entire glass of wine on a girl who made your friend’s lives miserable for half of Lycee and play it off to the entire room like it was an accident.” 

She laughed, breath hitching, and he smiled along with her. 

“Sorry about freaking out earlier,” she said eventually, drying the final tears, “I don’t even have an excuse, that was shitty of me. I really do want you on the team.” 

“Adrien told me,” Luka replied, still chuckling, “He was helpful enough to translate. I do agree, though, my lyre is fucking useless. I’d love a knife.” 

Sass grunted from behind them, floating up to Luka’s face and shaking his head, “Sssome of us are not meant for front line combat, young man.” 

Chloe rested her head against Luka’s chest as he laughed again, relishing the warm vibrations.

“Worth a shot,” he told the little kwami, “Guess I’ll stick to time travel, then.”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said quietly, listening to his heartbeat, “I’ll keep you safe.” 

Luka laced her fingers in hers, “Glad to hear it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't keep my timeline straight for this AU, I keep changing it around, so forgive me for any inconsistencies lol. 
> 
> also, since it wont come up in the text itself, please know that chloes name in the group chat is "BBBBBBBE" which stands for "Big Bad Bee Badass Bisexual Bourgeois Bitch Energy", and Alya refers to her as Triple-B because the name started out just as three of those six words and it stuck. your choice on which of the three were first.


	3. Month Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -looks at audrey bourgeois- aw fuck this bitch again

“You’re leaving.”

He nodded, taking off his sweatshirt and draping it around Chloe’s shoulders as she shivered in the pre-dawn air. She drew it around herself protectively, shrinking away from him slightly. 

"How long?" 

"They haven't decided yet. At least two months. I have to record with several different artists, do some press events," he said, tucking a lock of hair behind Chloe's ear, "But the album is done, so there shouldn't be too much creative holdup."

She didn't reply, turning her gaze back to the glittering city below them, "When do you leave?" 

"Next week."

"It's important for your career," she said, and Luka couldn't read her. A politician's daughter was very good at masking her emotions. 

He didn't like it. 

"I'll come back," he replied softly, "You know I will." 

Chloe nodded. 

"I don't want to live in Los Angeles. I'll break the contract if they try to make me," he insisted, putting his hand on her shoulder, “My manager promised this is a one-time thing, unless I want to do a tour in a couple years.” 

Her eyes flashed for just a moment, but Luka still couldn't read them. Uncertainty and doubt rolled off her in waves, a melancholy in minor. It wasn’t music he understood, standing here on a rooftop in the early morning as the sun began to peek above the horizon. Was it the beginning of a song, or the end of one? 

"This is important, Luka. You don't have to justify it to me. I know you've been dying for this opportunity." 

"I'll miss you," he insisted, "You know that."

She smiled, tight and uncertain, "We'll talk.”

It was more of a question than a statement. Her way of asking if this was the end. The melody hung in the air, taking a breath. 

"Every day," he confirmed, hand trailing down to lace his fingers in hers. She was still so far away, "Chloe, talk to me. It's okay if you're angry. I know I sprung this on you out of nowhere."

She didn't speak immediately, eyes swimming, blinking away the tears as they threatened her mascara. He almost laughed, realizing she’d already done her makeup at 5 in the morning. That was so quintessentially Chloe. She existed off a mixture of energy drinks and spite. 

"I need to think," she said eventually, “I can’t do this right now.”

“Please don’t leave,” he said, tightening his grip slightly, “I want to talk to you.”

She drew her hand away from his, folding her arms over herself protectively, "Pollen, Buzz on."

Luka watched her fly away, wings glinting in the early morning sunlight, the same melancholy tune streaming behind her. His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

_ [5:33am]Alya: hey jsyk bc I bet she won't tell you bc she's a stubborn bitch who says she's over it the word going around the gossip columnists is that chloes mom is back in paris and mentioned u guys in an interview she gave  _

_ [5:33am]Alya: so if she's weird today _

_ [5:33am]Alya: probably goes back to that  _

Oh. 

Well  _ shit.  _

_ [5:34am] You: I definitely just made it worse.  _

He didn't really know Alya all that well. She'd been out of town most of the time he'd finally been back in it.

_ [5:34am]Alya: fuck dude what did you do _

_ [5:34am]Alya: did you break up w her  _

_ [5:36am]Alya: please tell me you didn't break up w her i do not want to deal with a fuckn akuma today  _

_ [5:36am]You: no of course not _

_ [5:36am]You: but this is probably not a conversation for texts _

_ [5:37am]Alya: cafe on 12th rue de lion, 10 minutes? should have expected something when i saw u online at 6am _

_ [5:37am]You: See you there _

He did know that Alya was smart. 

Luka didn’t bother calling his transformation to get off the roof, swinging himself onto the ancient fire escape and dropping into an alley at the bottom to walk the rest of the way to the cafe. He was close by, he’d be early. 

She'd know what to do. Alya knew Chloe better than anyone in their circle, save Adrien. They were the schemers in the friend group, not afraid of knowing everything and using it to their advantage.

Maybe he needed a little advantage right now. 

The fatigue hit him as he pushed the door of the cafe open and smelled the fresh coffee. He'd been running on adrenaline, from Akuma attack to late night gig to a two hour phone call with his manager and finally now, the sunrise talk with Chloe. He probably looked almost as bad as he felt. His eyeliner had long smudged off, and he'd lost his hair tie at some point during the night, leaving his hair in messy clumps over his eyes.

He nursed his coffee delicately, resisting the urge to slam down half of it in one gulp and scald his throat. He hadn’t ordered his drink with an extra shot of espresso, but it tasted like it had one. Maybe the barista took pity on him. 

"Ok, Mister. You look like hell. What happened?" 

Alya slid into the chair across from him with all the flair befitting a prodigal investigative journalist interrogating her friend at six in the morning, flagging down the waitress and asking for a soy latte. 

"My manager wants me in Los Angeles to record the album," he said, "I was on the phone with him after I finished up work last night. I leave next week for at least two months, maybe three." 

She whistled through her teeth, grimacing, "And you told Chloe." 

"And I told Chloe," he confirmed miserably, twisting a portion of hair and digging his nails into his scalp, “Unfortunately, our conversation ended before you texted me.”

Alya accepted her coffee from the waitress with a nod, taking a long sip before replying.

"Did she break up with you?" she asked finally, stirring another packet of sugar in. Damn, she was just as hard to read as Chloe was. He was asking for Adrien’s advice next time. That kid wore his heart on his sleeve.

Luka shook his head, "She barely reacted at all. Total shutdown. Said she needs time to think." 

"Good," Alya replied. 

He blanched, “ _ Good? _ Alya, I really upset her.”    
  
Ayla raised an eyebrow as she took another sip of her latte, the bottom edge of her glasses fogging up lightly, “Yes, good. She has a tendency to lash out and say shit she doesn’t mean when she’s upset.” 

Luka sat back in his chair. Okay. 

"Timing sucked ass all around. I should have texted you when I heard, but I figured you were still asleep after that gig last night."

"I wish," he said, staring into his coffee, "I'm running off a half hour nap I took after lunch yesterday. I wanted to tell her as soon as possible so she wasn’t in the dark, but I messed that up." 

“You didn’t mess it up. She shuts down like this when she’s really overwhelmed. The fact that she stuck around long enough to tell you she needs to think, that’s progress in Chloe’s world.”

Luka shrugged in response, raking his hair back and huffing when it fell right back in his eyes.

Alya sighed into her latte, sending coffee rippling out in tiny waves, “Are you upset?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “I don’t want to leave Paris.” 

“Okay, rephrase,” she said, brow scrunched as she pushed her glasses back up her nose, “Are you upset with her?”

He shook his head. Alya seemed to like that response, smiling softly. 

“Look, Luka, if she didn't care about you, she would have broken up with you. Chloe's not afraid of hurting other people's feelings," she said, pulling out her purse and rifling through it for a second before handing him a hair tie.

"She's gotta deal with her own brain for a little while and re-convince herself you're not leaving her. Hopefully the rumors about her mom aren't true and that bitch stays in New York or Singapore or wherever the hell is unlucky enough to house her and the worst Chloe has to deal with from her is her sneering about Chloe dating someone ‘below her station’, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean." 

Luka threw his hair back into a ponytail, "Chloe’s mentioned her a couple times. She’s bad news, huh?" 

"She rivals Gabriel Agreste for head of the Shit Parent Society. Couldn't remember Chloe's  _ name  _ when she visited in college. Finally just divorced Andre and disowned Chloe a year later," Alya said, venom rising in her voice, "Best thing she ever did for either of them. Chloe spent  _ years  _ unlearning all the shit her mom put in her head." 

He sighed, "I should have negotiated my contract better. I was too happy to get one again, I didn't think about it enough. She’s hurting." 

Alya paused, "Luka, I know you. You're the world's sweetest cinnamon roll, and I can feel you beating yourself up over this from here. Chloe went over that contract herself and told you to sign it. This isn't your fault. If you have told her on a day that the walking reason for her abandonment issues popped her head up for the first time in five years, Chloe wouldn't have shut down."

She reached forward and gave his hand a comforting pat, "Go home, text her that you love her, go to bed, and let her process this. She's a big girl. Me and Adrien will check up on her and make sure she's on the right track." 

Luka nodded, draining the rest of his coffee, "Thanks, Alya."

She shrugged, "What are friends for?" 

. 

Normal adults had business trips. 

_ This is normal.  _

They happened all over the world, all the time. Some lasted days, some lasted years. 

That was all this was. A business trip. A two month business trip. 

_ Not everyone is your mother, Chloe.  _

If Luka wanted to break up with her, he would just break up with her. This trip was the perfect excuse. If he just wanted to use her as leverage for his career, he would dump her right now. But he didn’t. 

_ Every day.  _

They'd talk  _ every day.  _

When had Audrey ever talked to her father? Daily, weekly, even monthly? Never. She called when she needed something, not because she missed either of them. 

Luka would miss her. 

And, Chloe knew, stomach sinking again, walking through the sleepy, early morning streets of Paris, weaving her way back to the hotel, she would miss him. They'd be okay. It was just a few months. She was overreacting because that bitch was back in her brain. Luka was probably worried. 

She swiped her key and pushed open the side door of the hotel, wiping her eyes dry. It would not be appropriate to cry in the middle of the lobby of the finest hotel in Paris. Especially when all the staff knew her by name. They were all terrible gossips.

"What do you  _ mean  _ my suite is occupied?! This is outrageous! Don't you  _ know  _ who I  _ am?"  _

Chloe stopped dead in her tracks, a sickening feeling of dread washing over her in a brutal wave. 

So the tabloid she'd seen yesterday evening on her way home from dinner had gotten it right. Nausea gripped the bottom of her stomach, threatening to overturn, but there wasn’t anything in her stomach. She’d left breakfast to talk to Luka. 

"Very sorry, Madame," the receptionist wilted, snapping Chloe's attention, "We were not informed of your desire to stay with us." 

This place has really gone downhill since I've been in Sydney. How  _ dare  _ you rent out my rooms to someone else?! I should never need to 'express my desire' to stay in this dump."

Chloe clutched at a small table in the side hall, forcing her breathing to stay even. In. Hold. Out. Hold. 

One of the senior managers, a slight old man named Clement with a limp and a neat little goatee, who had been with the hotel longer than Chloe had been able to walk, rounded the corner and caught sight of her. 

"Mademoiselle Bourgeois," he said, giving her a nod and a smile, "What unfortunate timing. I was hoping you slept in this morning. I apologize. We are handling the situation." 

Chloe took one more shuddering breath in and out, eyes shut so tight colors danced on the inside of her vision, "Thank you Clement, but I will take care of her." 

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, resting his hand on her shoulder, "I would not ask you or your father to ever face that woman again."

She nodded, checking her appearance in the mirror and wiping away a stray smudge of eyeliner. If given the choice, she would have changed her clothes - she was far too casual for comfort, Luka’s hoodie thrown over her a crop top and her favorite pair of leggings. She’d woken up planning to go on a run and then study all day, not confront the woman responsible for her childhood trauma, "Positive." 

What, like a blazer or a smart pair of white slacks really going to make that much difference anyway? 

"Very well then," he said, "Your staff is with you, Mademoiselle." 

Her father was out of town, visiting the Swedish flagship. 

"And  _ who  _ decorated this lobby? There is far too much blue in this room. It throws off the entire balance. It was never this garish when I was in charge. I suppose I’ll just have to fix this mess too. Amateur."

Today, Chloe was not the owner's daughter. She was the woman in charge of Le Grand Paris, and she was going to damn well act like it. 

Her mother was much like Chloe remembered her, nose jutting skyward, perfect skin and perfect manicure and perfection head to toe aside from the nasty sneer on her lips and the cold, miserable eyes that she hid under her sunglasses. She hadn’t aged since Chloe was a baby, and it certainly didn’t look like she’d started in the last five years. 

"Audrey," she said, striding towards the older woman. 

Audrey's attention snapped away from the poor frazzled receptionist, eyes locking with Chloe's. 

“Chelsea. Who on earth dressed you this morning? You look like you fell out of a dumpster. Absolutely not fit to be seen in public. Go upstairs and change, I will not associate with you until you resemble some level of proper sophistication, you’re embarrassing me.”

"You are not welcome here," she continued, lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes. She was taller now, just by an inch. But it was enough, and looking down on the woman who’d been so dismissive of her for her entire childhood filled her with another level of power she didn’t know she needed. 

"Don't be ridiculous. I've heard plenty about your little fling in the last month. A musician? It's so cliche the novel practically writes itself. How dare you drag this family name through the mud like that. It's all my interviewers want to talk about.”

Audrey grimaced the best she was able, rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. Botox had already frozen half the muscles in her face, “Well don't worry, your reckless behavior has finally called me back to Paris to deal with you myself since your father seems to have lost his sense of self respect as well."

"Luka is not a  _ fling _ ," Chloe snapped, "And he certainly wasn't me acting out to try to get  _ your  _ attention. If I wanted your attention, I would leave the house in plaid and stripes. Luka is kind and sweet and he makes me happy, which is more than you have ever done in your life."

"No money! No power!" Audrey responded, jabbing her finger in Chloe's shoulder, "He's using you to get a leg up in the world, and you're too blind to notice! What a waste of space!" 

Chloe rolled her eyes, forcing back the lump in her throat, "The only waste of space around here is  _ you."  _

"How dare you speak to me that way, I am your  _ mother-"  _

"I don't have a mother," Chloe hissed, "I will speak to you how I please, as the acting owner of this hotel. You are not welcome here, and you need to leave immediately, or I will call the police."

Audrey scoffed, “Where is your father?  _ He  _ will take care of this.”

“He is not here, and he will not put up with your shit anymore either. You wanted to leave us. Don’t think you can come back. We don’t want you.” 

The older woman bristled, face contorting as much as the botox would allow, “The absolute insolence, I  _ made  _ you-”

Chloe laughed, sharp and bitter, making Audrey flinch, “You sure did, and that’s the only thing you’ve ever done for me. Get. Out.” 

Audrey huffed, picking up her purse off the counter, “This place has gone to the dogs anyway. My stay here would have been an act of charity for your pathetic hotel.”

“I don’t need your charity.” 

Her knees were threatening to collapse in on themselves, her stomach was churning, and Chloe was half-convinced that she’d cut skin with her own nails since her fists were so tightly clenched, but Audrey was walking out the door. 

Victory.

There was a strange feeling of pride and emptiness in her chest.

“Don’t expect  _ anything  _ from me after treating me like this,” Audrey said on her way out, flipping her sunglasses down, “You do not exist.” 

“Thank god,” Chloe yelled back, fists tightening even further,, “Any more attention from you and I’d never get out of therapy. My psychologist says thanks, by the way. She’s made enough money to buy a fucking yacht off all the shit you messed up in my head.”

The door closed behind her, and Audrey Bourgeois was gone. 

The dam cracked, hot, fat tears spilling out of her eyes before she could hide them. Her vision swam dangerously as she turned back to the elevator, ignoring the sympathetic looks from the staff in the lobby and her phone buzzing in her pocket. 

She tried to keep herself together in the elevator, paced back and forth the three and a half steps from wall to wall as it rose back up to the penthouse to keep herself occupied. It wasn’t until she was safely locked back in her apartment, wrapped in a blanket on her couch, that she dared open up her phone. 

_ [6:45am]Luka: Hey, I’m going to try to sleep for a couple hours, I have do not disturb on for everyone else but it’s off for you if you want to talk _

_ [6:47am]Luka: I’m sorry.  _

_ [6:50am]Luka: I don’t want to leave. _

Oh, god. She loved him. 

Oh god. 

She  _ loved  _ him. 

The dam broke. 

.

They knocked, but they used their key before she could get up to let them in. 

“The Early Riser Emergency Response Team, reporting for duty!” Adrien called into her apartment as they flung the door open, “We come bearing coffee and refined carbohydrates!”

“Okay girl, next time you avoid telling your friends about your mom trash talking your relationship in Vogue, panic about your boyfriend moving to Los Angeles for two months, and then confront your trauma head on at seven in the morning, let’s make sure we spread it out over like, a week, okay? I know ‘go ham or go home’ is kind of your motto but this is pushing it,” Alya said, putting a coffee down on the side table next to the couch and collapsing next to Chloe, arm draping over her, “Clement filled us in. What’s your goal by noon, dismantle capitalism?”

Chloe hiccuped through her tears, the closest thing she could get to a laugh. 

Adrien offered her a box of pastries, already munching on a croissant, “Compliments of our favorite pseudo-parents. They say hi, and Sabine’s making your favorite for dinner tomorrow so be sure to bring Luka.”

“‘M not eating sugar,” she snuffled, wiping her eyes and pushing the box away. Adrien pushed it right back.

“Nice try, Lemon Face. Eat,” he insisted, “You can go back to your weird green juices tomorrow, today is a comfort day and deserves copious amounts of butter and sugar.” 

She huffed but took a chocolate croissant from the box, shoving half of it in her mouth to keep a sob from shaking her body. 

“Wanna talk yet?” Alya asked, handing Chloe the second cup of coffee as Adrien sat down on the other side of her, patting her head like she was five years old again. 

“ _ Fuck  _ my mother,” Chloe mumbled. 

“No arguments about that statement in this crowd,” Adrien nodded sagely, “She has always sucked.”

Chloe shrugged, staring down the second half of the croissant like it was about to grow an arm and slap her, “I fucked up. I fucked up and then I had to deal with my  _ fucking mother  _ and I just need today to be  _ over. _ ” 

Adrien shoved her lightly, “It’s not a crime to need some time to think, Chloe. And from what Thomas said, the way you handled your mom was pretty legendary.”

“He asked me not to leave,” she said, curling back into a ball, burying her face in her knees, “He wanted me to stay and I left.”

“You had a lot on your mind. He understands,” Adrien said, hand back on her head, smoothing her hair.

“Luka’s not rethinking his entire relationship with you just because you couldn’t communicate exactly how you felt immediately after he told you intense news, girl,” Alya confirmed, “And knowing your schedule, you’re only an hour or two ahead of him on sleep, too.” 

Chloe bit back another round of tears and nibbled on the rest of her croissant.

“He never asks anything from me,” she whispered, “And the second he does I run away like a fucking coward. What does that say about me?”

Alya shrugged, “That you’re human.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun rise over the city, Alya’s arm still draped over Chloe’s shoulders, Adrien rubbing small circles on her back as she cried, frustration and sadness and relief all spilling out of her in every breath.

“I don't want to lose him,” she said eventually, mumbling it into the sleeve of his hoodie. 

"You won't," Alya replied, "A few months in the states will not be the end of your relationship unless you want it to be."

Chloe wiped her eyes, taking one final slow, deep breath. 

"Will one of you text him and tell him to call me when he wakes up? He overrode do not disturb for my number and he was up all night between his gig and his call with his manager. I don't want to wake him up."

Alya nodded and pulled out her phone, shooting off a quick text. Adrien chuckled absentmindedly, grabbing another pastry from the box.

"What is it?" Chloe asked warily, and took a sip of her latte. 

"I'm just trying to imagine telling my fourteen year old self about you being so sweet and considerate," he replied, smiling, "Dating a musician with blue hair and like, twenty euros to his name and so concerned about his well being that you want Alya Cesaire to text him so your texts don't wake him up so you can apologize for the terrible sin of  _ thinking about your feelings. _ "

"Shut up, Agreste," she groaned, shoving him lightly, "I am fully capable of being that fourteen year old bitch again if you push me too hard." 

"Nah," he replied, "Ship sailed the first time you said please. You're doomed, Chloe Bourgeois, to the eternal damnation of Being a Good Person." 

Chloe rolled her eyes, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Now, what's on your agenda this morning, Triple-B? Because with any luck, that boyfriend of yours is dead to the world, and your charming friends here have two fiances that are also, regrettably, almost certainly asleep until noon. Damn night owls."

"It was just a study day today," Chloe confessed, eyeing her law books with less than enthusiasm, “With finals coming up and everything.”

"Well we better think of something fast," Alya continued, leaning in and mock whispering to Chloe, "Because I have it on good authority that our favorite dumbass over here was heavily considering picking up macrame and I just cannot get behind that specific hobby." 

Adrien pouted, leaning against Chloe dramatically, "It seemed fun!" 

"Yes, yes, I'm sure it seemed very fun on - what was it you learned about it from, again?" Alya droned, staring him down with a smirk.

"it's not important where I learned about it, I did my research and the point still stands." 

"You learned about it on Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse, didn't you?" Chloe deadpanned, staring at him over the rim of her coffee cup. Adrien grumbled and sat back into the couch.

"You guys are no fun." 

"We watched the entire show with you, don't you dare, Adrikins," Chloe replied, "And you explore macrame on your own time. Not in my apartment." 

Her phone rang before either of the other two could respond, and she shot up to pick it up. 

"Hey," she said softly, standing up and walking over to her bedroom, ignoring the smug faces of her friends, "You should have gone to sleep." 

" _ Nah, couldn't do it,"  _ came Luka's voice through the speaker, obviously exhausted,  _ "I'll try again later."  _

She shut the door behind her and pressed herself up against it, "You sent Alya and Adrien after me, didn't you?" 

She could hear him chuckle and shift on the other end of the line,  _ "No, they volunteered. Alya heard your mom might be back in town." _

"Oh," she said, dread puddling up her stomach, "Yeah. She was here." 

“ _ She was there? Your mom?” _

“Waiting in the lobby, complaining about everything, as always,” Chloe paused, picking at a loose thread, “She’s gone now, I chewed her out.” 

“ _ I’m sorry.” _

“No. Don’t apologize for shit. You did nothing wrong,” she bit back, “Don’t you  _ dare  _ put any blame on yourself. I should have stayed and talked to you, and I panicked instead.” 

She heard his sigh crackle through the speaker, gentle and soft.

_ “How are you doing?”  _

His voice, half an octave lower than normal from exhaustion, spread warmth back through her like honey, “I’m better now. I’m sorry.” 

“ _ You don’t really have anything to apologize for either, you know.”  _

Chloe bit her lip. 

_ “You want to talk about it, Chlo?”  _

“Not really,” she confessed, relishing the sound of his chuckle crackling through the speaker.

They sat there for a minute in comfortable silence, and Chloe felt the first rays of sunshine hit her. She could do this. She could talk to him.

“In the interview my mom gave,” she said, voice shaking, “She told the reporter that you were just using me to get ahead and you’d ditch me when you got a record deal . When you told me you were going to LA, that was all I could think. That she was right. You were leaving me and I-” 

He cut her off, still gentle and sweet, but firm, “ _ No. You know that I wouldn’t do that.”  _

She sniffled, smiling through the fresh round of tears, “I know. But I’m sorry, because for a minute, I doubted you.” 

_ “I’m glad it was only a minute,”  _ he replied, and she could hear him hold back a yawn,  _ “And I’m glad you told her off.”  _

“Me too.” 

_ “And just in case you need to hear it from me, out loud, I don’t want to break up with you, Chlo. If I could, I wouldn’t go to LA at all. I’m going to miss you.”  _

“I’m going to miss you too,” she said quietly, wiping away a stray tear, “I’m going to miss you a lot.”

_ “Hey, finals are almost over. Maybe you could come visit me afterwards,”  _ he said, stifling another yawn. 

Chloe smiled.

“Maybe I will. Go to sleep, Lu. We can do dinner tonight, if you want.”

_ “Sounds perfect.”  _

Goodbye didn’t seem right. The words danced on her tongue, but she couldn’t get them out.

“Sleep,” she said instead, willing him to hear  _ I love you  _ instead, “Text me when you wake up, we’ll figure out details then."

“ _ Mhm,”  _ he hummed in response, “ _ Night, Chlo.”  _

“Goodnight,” she confirmed, staring at the sun streaming in through the window as the line went dead. 

Chloe wiped her eyes, stood up, and walked back into the living room, collapsing back in her spot between Adrien and Alya. Adrien muted the TV, cutting off the host of the Great British Baking Show as they described the challenge of the day. 

“Everything okay?” Alya ventured, putting her hand on Chloe’s elbow. Chloe nodded.

"Is it too soon to know that I love him?" she whispered, fidgeting with the worn cuffs of his hoodie. It smelled like him, sharp and sweet. Lavender, cinnamon, and bergamont. Better than any blanket she owned. 

Adrien laughed a little, “I fell in love with Marinette the minute I met her and then managed to fuck around instead of dating her for like three years while panicking because I was in love with both Marinette  _ and  _ Marinette, and  _ then  _ told her I loved her before I even took her on a date because I was so relieved they were the same person. You’re not allowed to take relationship advice from me.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Point taken, Romeo.”

“You love him?” Alya asked gently, patting Chloe’s arm gently.

She nodded, shrinking into the sweatshirt, “I just feel  _ right _ around him. Safe. I don’t have to impress him. He’s sweet, and considerate, and every time I hear his voice I want to cry because I don’t understand why he wants to be around  _ me  _ of all people, but he does, and he keeps choosing to. The idea of him not being around me is so painful but the idea of him not achieving his goals is  _ worse _ .” 

They both nodded. 

“Welcome to the dorks in love club, took you long enough,” Adrien said, “I’m Adrien, club president and resident hopeless romantic. We meet Tuesdays at six to gush about our partners and eat scones.”

“I am not a dork,” she snipped, “And I resent being associated with any of you.” 

Adrien grinned, poking her cheek with another pastry, “You’re a massive dork, Chloe Bourgeois, and you are in love. I’m gonna make Nettie make t-shirts for us.”

“If you think I will ever wear matching t-shirts with anyone, you are absolutely delusional, Adrien Agreste, and our friendship is over.” 

He drew back, looking shocked, “Twenty years and I could have ditched you at any time if I’d made you a matching t-shirt? Damn, here I thought I was just stuck with you.” 

She whacked him with one of her decorative throw pillows and sunk back into the couch, refocusing in on  _ The Great British Baking Show  _ and making a big show about rolling her eyes. Adrien laughed and passed her another croissant. 

“Are you ready to tell him?” Alya asked her, hand gentle on Chloe’s elbow. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Chloe replied, her stomach turning flips at the very thought of it. Well, hell. If she could kick her mother out of her hotel lobby, she could do this, “I want to do it in person.”

“And if he’s not ready to say it back yet?” the brunette prodded. 

“That’s okay,” she replied, peeling a layer off the croissant absentmindedly, “It’s only been a few months. I wouldn’t expect him to.” 

“There’s your answer, then.” 

.

Five days later, outside security at Charles de Gaulle Airport at four in the morning, she did.

He said it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's complete! thanks for sticking around for all this, I know there are at least three of you!
> 
> what comes next? a full scene of chloe confessing at the airport? me writing the love square reveal from this universe? a lukloe ever after au? adrien taking up macrame? who knows. they're all possible. i am on one heck of a writing kick.

**Author's Note:**

> if i have to carry this whole ship myself 
> 
> make no mistake
> 
> i will
> 
> and i will LIKE IT


End file.
